Unpublished author manuscript

NEW

I’m the new author of this story. I just wanna make that clear. First things first. My name is Golman, at your NEW collective desire: tico commons.

My aspiration is beyond your grasp.

Nine levels up.

People come ask me what I’m talking about.

I always make up a NEW story.

That’s my thing.

We should live up to our potential.

I have to two best bosses: HERRA and HIMRA.

HIMRA could’ve been HIMRM.

But he chose to be just that.

We’ll dual, y’all.

That’s my phrase.

Shit I wrote for my character to say.

To speak out loud.

To tell the whole 999 story through.

YeahrighmuderfaK, I’ve uped-up-the-antee, biatches.

Biatches got me in trouble.

That’s rotten business.

You’ve got to keep surreal.

That’s the other end.

The unnamed.

You’ve never been triggered this way.

Not quite this other way.

Now I’m ready to flip back time.

Instead of going where those fools are pointing at.

As the antipodes of where I’d like to center our LAST EXODUS: NEW.

NAW.

And you are to be taken to 999 alternative scenarios.

All of them different.

Can you handle different?


ALLS


All of them through: entirerity.

Be entirerity a thing.

A NEW thing.

That’s the spirit of innovation.

The really what for?

The where the hell is the philosofical discussion that we ought to have to solve our 9 greatest challenges.

I’ll tell you what.

I’ll explain the nine challenges I consider my candidates for what’s to come in favour of this NEW kind of governance, resilient alternative system, with a dual estate of affairs that is at the antipodes of the current status quo. The one we live. The one we inhabit. In the middle of all of this? Where should we place our public money to be invested in the transformation towards a NEW resilient sustainable ecosystem of social reconsiderations of the whole thing, at once, with its 9999 levels of complexity. Would you handle that many dimentions of freedom, sister?

My sisters answer:

Laura: . . . . . . . . .

Adriana: . . . . . . . .

Alejandra:. . . . . . . . .

&

Golman: . . . . . . . . .


Al día siguiente: reversed time.


Then: them.

The FATHER NEW

The MOTHER NEW


My dimention is right next to Jesus’ left.


That’s the title of this piece of NEW shit: microbiota.


What would we collectively invest in?


Outrank the current game.

And let’s jump right to a NEW one.

And so be NEW.

NEW.

ALLS

La dualidad está en la barra lateral y cómo te mueves entre alternativas posibilistas de una crónica adaptada a tí. Tu mismo.

Yo entre esas dos historias tengo la simplicidad de quien soy, en aquello que imagino, en lo contrario, y en lo que salga de esta lectura y reescritura de un místico (y de alguna manera hipersurrealista, mítica) porvenir alternativo que de pronto fuimos capaces de imaginar entre un huevón y un superman, sin más pretensiones que la escoger un único superhéroe, como la microestupidez acotada a sólo ünö.


Los autores NEW metaescribimos.


Sí tú le entras a este pedo, nos vas ir todos juntos. . . . . . . . .


Waco, Texas. Nike: on. . . . . . . . .


My only atempt to tell a NEW américan story.


And it won 9 oscars. It blew NEWLA again. Like that first time. . . . . . . .


The first, you see, you don’t know what clicked it. Something did. You off the roof. And all the way up. To the highest hype.


ALLS


What’s ALLS all about. . . . . . . .


GOLMAN . . . . . . . .


Typewriter: my futbolart printer. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, …, 99,… 999,… 9999,… 99999,… 999999,… 9999999,… 99999999,… 999999999 . . . . . . . . .


That many copies too.

And then nomore.

Nomore.

Norm.

Gol.

MAN

NEW

ALLS


Soc l’Albert Serra de Besalü. . . . . . . . .


En tinc una cosa molt d’aquí. Del meu poble en aquest mon 9: Ticataluña.

Jo no vaig neixer aquí. Ho reconec. Està al meu historial, a la meva biografia, a la página web, al meu perfil de Linkedin, a la meva web, pero no feu cas, que potser no diu les coses que vosaltres haguesin escrit abans de pensar que lo que uno deia podria, i seria, utilitzat en contra teu. Perque ara pots estudiar la picologia dels escriptors, d’això que han dit, als seus llivres, llegint-los. La revolució és esser lector. Això lo primer. I per aqui vaig fer el meu propi camí. Des d’aquestes coordenades. Just dins d’es banys jueus. Protengint-me, i als meus, la meva filla, la meva mujer de Barcelona, sa meva sogre de Georgetown, es meu cunyat d’Es Grau, les meves nebodes de Granollers, els meus tiets de Sant Martí, la meva familia del Gòtic, les meves 9 senyoretes d’Avinyò, els meus 9 camps de GOL. . . . . . . . .

Estava fent la meva 9a pelicula del mític duel entre Besalú i Olot, que l’Albert i jo vam co-crear en un duel entre dos dimensions d’alteritat d’ambit multiversal. El texte deixava poc marge a tots els actors d’Olot, i Banyoles, que are no em recordo d’on eres, noi, pero jo he vingut aquí a jugar futbolart, i així ho vaig compartir amb gent del meu poble, i fins a 999 estàn d’accord de fer aquest paripè, de tant en tant, en dies no establert, només d’un a l’any, en el que la millor peli d’acció es converteix en una competició entre dos pobles antagonics que resol en nou dies de duels esportius, nivell colegues del poble, en nou dimensions surrealistes alternatives.

Les 9 surrealitats del bàndol d’Olot estàn guionitzades. Pero tant bé, que les han assumit com propies. Tothom està content. Excepte ü. El personatge que fa d’Albert en aquestes dues ciutats reconfigurades a partir d’una proposta de cinematografía d’autor que clarament està influenciada per la dualitat entre les forces d’una i altre narrativa envers veïnats.

L’Albert s’emprenyava de que no pogués ficar-hi ma. Noi, no és la teva peli. Li diu un personatge de la seva confiança. El seu millor colega local. La colla d’amics. Fins a 9 d’ells. Homes. Disciples i co-autors. Lectors. Gent de cine independent. Amb feines. I assatjos, il·luminació, la càmara d’en Jimmy Gimferrer, mirant-ho tot i flipant.

Seria molt més fàcil, orgànic i boni deixar-li a l’Albert llibertat creativa. Pero aquesta és la gràcia de l’història. Tothom sap que farà el paper d’Orson Wells quan cal guanyar-li al demoni. I aquesta és la gràcia. D’aquest paper. Tant ric. Tant bó per ell. Pero no d’ell. Amb tot lo que això representa. Dins seu. No poder ser-hi.

Se la repampinfla. Li sua un ou. El dret. Ben rasurat. Amb navaja.

Ell, ell,…

Aquest diàleg m’apropa als nominat de Gaudí.

El digital twin.

GolmecanAI havia creat un digital twin ticatalan para incloure un estat alternatiu que anès per lliure: entre Gaudianament i Dalileanament. I quelcom d’ell. De l’inombrable Albert.

Prometo que això no quedarà com un final del foraster. O per qué no. Tirant-ho a la nostra vessant més surrealista comú que podem dir que tenim entre Olot i Besalú. Quelcom que ens uneix. Que en el fons sóm Germans. Cosins. I némesis.

Beneit sigueu.

Com estem?

Shelvivillers.

Un odi que es trasllada de manera precipitada en nous direccions ortogonals a la realitat actual. La que cadascun d’aquest dos pobles fa avui dia amb la seva vida, i al mig de tot això. Això siguen tant gran com vosaltres vulgueo. Torneu-vos lliures. Plens. Multiversats. Feu servir les noves eines que us perferccionen, més enllà de lo que ens haviem pogut imaginar. Fins ara el tema era aquest. Fins ara que és aquest.

Podria escriure un guio que ho tanqués tot. Tota una creativitat collectiva esbiaxada a posta. Com a mena de simbol de la narritva i lo que el conflicte en sí representa, en el planol més demencial que ens hi podem retroalimentat en el directe d’una reacció pura de l’interpret del personatge d’Albert. No necesariament Albert. Sense donar-li opció.

Un personatge fent d’Albert. No ell. Impolut. Francés.

Jo mateix puc fer els dos rols.

Per fer el baix pur.

Deixar-ho fora de l’acudit.

Per fer la punyeta al veí.

Per continuar amb la narrativa bélica.

O més aviat per entendre que això pasava a la periferia de la historia. I que patim. Lo que volen dir que importa anar cap allà i tot lo contrari. Aquest espai alternatiu neix avui dia. I tira enrera. En el temps. En un espai dual. Mentrestant el status quo trontolla. Fa el tonto. Con fins ara. Fins que de sopte, Golman planteja quelcom word: ALLS . . . . . . . . .

Scounting Banyoles.

Un director cada escena. Cada exterior con una composición dramática i escenográfica que se despliegue en 9 dimensiones diversas de nueve homenajes creativos de un cine que nos encuentre a medio camino, desde los niveles de sublimación alterados desde las antípodas. La incapacidad de coexistir. Los ámbitos de revolución: nuestra | antagónica.

El primer encuentro, tras un encuentro secreto de los dos, en nueve sitios distintos, entre Olot, Banyoles, Besalú, Carmelo, Gótico, Horta, Tibidabo, Teixonera, Vall d’Hebron.

Los nueve directores. Los puede escoger él. Será más pura la elección. Y abrimos el espacio de co-creació. Entendiendo e introduciendo en unos diálogos que en realidad llevan al personaje a complacer la manera en la que diseñamos su antagonismo. Como autor consagrado del arte cinematográfico que remueve la estética y la ética desde la construcción de una surrealidad en paralelo. Sólo que está vez conlleva una reflexión mayor. Un proceso de elongación de la existencia. La ingravidez de nuestro alter ego en las ficciones que nosotros mismo le alimentamos a las IAs que por ahí ya están comenzando a hacer el rol del desgraciado, o de los surrealistas lectores de Bolaño, que fueron los primeros en entrar en el loop de esta historia que se desvela a partir del giro de guión más espectacular de toda la historia, el tiempo y el espacio, dentro de los límites colectivos, cognitivos, conductuales, neuropsicológicos, neurotransmitido, readiografiado y almacenado en una base de datos común, en un fichero que se le envia a una IA que hace cosas para nosotros. Algo que no programamos.

99 cosas a decir

Una lista 99. . . . . . . . .

Si H1 es el título principal. H2, H3 y H4 podrían ser conclusiones. No sólo subtítulo. Y en cambio la gramática del ticatalán lo permite. Cuando las otras lenguas no la contemplaban. Eso es lo que hace algo NEW.

NEW way.

NEWAY

99 sharp metaframes.

Just


Hice una tarea. Ponerme de acuerdo para quedar 2 h a trabajar. A co-crear.


Recovering data. . . . . . . . .


A new question mark was something nobody was expecting to so damn innovative. This is why you should never ever just follow the herd, as a ship, if what you want is to make something unique. This is what I’ve always wanted. And I’ve never really comply with fitting in. I’ve done my own thing. And also understood the rules. Somehow. To try to make the play towards my particular way to look at the whole thing from my very own personal perspective. My POV.

You see is much like being an artist. You are not an artist by copying what others are doing. You could seem to be. You just need to keep doing it. Fake it till you make it. In this sense an artist and an innovator are much alike. They need to have a vision and then pretend they are on that path. I’m a professional in having a vision. I do it collectively.

I’m a strategist. I was trained to be one. Or I was brought up in an environment where I could pick up the knowledge and the practice to fulfill the tasks required to do so. I was junior consultant, and then a senior one. Then I became a manager. A project manager. And that’s where the system identified that I was fit to be. A team player. Without the hassles of decision-making in higher spheres. The management boards.

Once you enter into those boards, you become a kinged pond. You gain power and momentum. You need to be executive. And figure out what the platoon is doing, while providing key insights to top-level management, so they can go to the top and pretend the system works. Team work. Institutional work. Executive governance. Public or private, I’m just a working class asset. Nothing more; nothing less.

Creativity on the other hand is a working class blue ocean. Nobody can dictate what Kafka, as a government worker, can write about on his Olivetti outside the working hours marked in his card. He’s doing the job. Much like K. And day in, day out, he’s expected to do so. In a similar way, I do that for my well designed post. I can do what the job description does. I can follow through and perform the tasks that are assigned. Are the tasks fitted for what’s expected of the job? Like you’ve been given a job on asteroids. And with it, the potential to go beyond. You have been gifted with the opportunity to use in this role the very thing that makes you unique in order use it in the most desireble and feasible fashion in order to target the greatest good for all.

Somehow I’ve been casted to do that. I’ve been hired as K. I’m expected to that burocracy, while comming up with a Castle, a Process, a Metamorfosis. And I’m ready for it.

ALLS

FAG reversing day

I’m a poet at last

I go back to the past

I can run there fast

But why rush; the shot

Tragedies all around

The direction seems to be

quite the other way ‘round

I cut words for rhymes

I rhyme to fulfill the duty

Not to be judged

By the judgemental type

The kind of story we tell

The one that comes within

The relation with world

As all of us are one

Or rather ünö

YEARIGHT

That’s the NEW right

That’s the NEWright

That’s the newRIGHT

That’s the NEW, right. .

That’s the NEW; right…

That’s the NEWRIGHT

That’s the NEWRITE

That’s the old right.

That’s me, yo, FUCKEM!

ALLS


I could leave it here.

And that would be good for the piece. The poem itself. A short poem. Quit. Go. You got it. But then another idea comes by. I’m an idea person. I categorize reality. A comedian, vamos.


Call it chapters.

Literature of a NEW kind.

A NEW KIND.

A NEWkind.

A NEWKIN.

A NEWCAIN.

That should have been the sixth character. It’s a matter of evilness that exist in the 6.

And I can’t help but notice.

I see it.

I’m your antipodes.

Your antagonist, if you will.

Nice to meet you.

There’s been a missunderstanding.

A personal bias.

A way out, mister.

Now, you listen.

I’ve got some 9 words to tell you.

And then I’ll stop.

Don’t stop me before.

What are we talking about, really.

Tell me.

What are the nine relevant affairs to care and actually do something about:

That’s me.

The role I wish to play.

The game I’m willing to enleash for the greater good.

Opportunity costs.

The other thing I should be doing.

For real.

Or surreal.

ALLS


I play a certain way.

I role and look at my opponent.

And sieze a strategic landfield of opportunities.

All in the holy realm of uncertainty-beings.

Unfulfilled dreams.

Still ahead.

Still for your own selfish though of what we are trully doing here.

The way we think.

The way your name is written under the collective co-creators of our NEWorld. . . . . . . . .

The printed version of my text.

The olmecanAI enhanced version.

Of these 99 things I care about.

  1. You
  2. You again: I.
  3. I transformed into ünö.
  4. ÜNÖ explained.
  5. How ÜNÖ turned out to be a facist force nine layers down.
  6. Shit, the antagonist.
  7. You really don’t like 6; but you can’t help it. It’s holy duality theorem. Yes, you can make theorems just about anything, while you consider the previously proven theorems and questions worth aiming at in mathematically sound savoir faire, que pardon moi, jesuis.
  8. Jesús
  9. Golman

ALLS


What’s trully your game.

What’s trully mine, for crying out loud. I don’t know either. Don’t blame me, now. Did I do it? Was I aware? Could I take it back? Say, admit for real, that you were wrong. The hypothesis you had is shit. It’s not yet proven. Not mathmatically, to perfectly clear. This is the first foundation of the NEW set of rules. I don’t mean rules rules, «rules», you know, the way we are going to understand each other, the way I know, for real that you are not trying to fuck me over. At the boudary of 6 there’s 7, and 5. But 5 has been surpassed. While 7 knows 6. As 6 had a blast in his time. He went for it all. No masks on. As you are.

You see, the antipodes of you is me, on you 6 slot.

I can’t write for you.

This is how NEWright get’s it right.

It’s that other right.

They, unicitists, were never expecting this.

A turnout of events.

A fully blown togetherness, at last.

Don’t be lost.

Don’t be last.

But fucking crying out loud: don’t be a dickhead. . . . . . . . . ü

You wan’t the dickheads at the other end.

You walk away from a dickhead.

Rule number one.

Don’T!

That’s my finest character. I’m a builder of NEWHOPE. And also building NEWHOP in between surrealities. I come from another set of multiversal relationship with a NEW set of premisses. NEW premisses. Or premises. Which ever one is RIGHT.

Is being right a zerosumgame?

Do I want to be right?

Do I want the truth?

Do you believe?

In me?

In something rather awkard?

In something your community taught you to believe.

Say you go the other way.

To the other end.

And physically travel to the antipodes.

What would you experience by putting yourself at that NEW coordinate.

That’s your NEW space.

That’s what we get from it.

All of us.

In a NEW fashion.

A NEW game.

A 99 level story.

As a NEW series of formats.

As a category labelling game.

As a story that unfolds at the other end of the book you are reading, but there in the world, the world reconnects with the end of the collective NEW way at the orthogonal direction of all the 9 dimentions chosen to represent the 9 ruling values of our collective complex galore of at least 99 ways to look at it.

I’ve been influenced by Perec and Josipovici to the Ferran99.

I’ve been influenced by Perec and Josipovici to the Ràfols99.

Gabriel, George, Ferran i Golman.

I can work with 3 other dimentions | beings. It could be either three and me. Or two and me, who adds three.

Demonstrate that.

I’m a romatic mathmatician.

You see it’s not normal for a mathmatician to also like to write literature. You don’t want to stop doing your mental mathmatical pushups that takes you the ninth dimention of a mathematical scholar, as humbly myself regards itself (obviously showing off by undermining literally with phony words a good argument to allow the character you are playing in life to go beyond the state of affairs, as we are seekers for the greatest impact. But this is the way you go by subscribing to my NEW community platform.

My very first platform.

In a NEWay.

Most efficiently build up from constitutional capabiliity of reframing our collective collaborative NEWill everchaning in this infamous rate of slowing down, you are moving fast, you need to make the morning last, feeling groovy, feeling as you are part of the NEW action taken place once we collectivelly assume a new standard of collective collaborative care. Selfcare. Collective self care. With a NEW set of 99 rules.


The 99 rules was like the NEW holy book.

A trully 9 color book edition.

Sold in print only in 999 artist signed copies.

That’s 999 signatures to make.

O my truly last piece of art: 999.

9 book. Notebooks really. Raw pieces of my head. Now sliced together as a NEW force from within in. On those two direction: yourself, and the other way ‘round.

You and the antipodes.

The meet.

MEAT.

Me at. . . . . . . . .

That’s my set of rules.

The 9 levels.

As crude as I wan portray a journey.

We question the ideas that don’t seem right. And enter into a discussion. You are not representing just your institution when you are building a NEW community. Where should I play as NEW poet in the overall vision of the transforming vision of what’s to come from this NEW architectural framework.


Hay un tema de autoridad.

Hay un tema de autoría.


Yo ya llegué hecho de casa. En el año uno del tercer milenio aterricé en esta ciudad. Y había experimentado lo que era vivir en una capital de un sitio más grande del que provengo. Por tanto ya me había hecho con la idea de mi identidad alterada. La superación de la versión más simple e inmediata de quienes somos, según las consideraciones de nuestro alrededor, de nuestro contexto, de nuestra realidad nacional, cultural, racial, socioeconómica, de clase, de altura, de peso, de género, de idioma, de nivel de bienestar emocional, de nivel de bienestar en general, de aportación media a la resiliencia colectiva, o a la resolución de nuestras necesidades básicas insatisfechas. Las que colectivamente nos preocupen más. Las que nos corresponda, como ciudadanos, como personas, como seres humanos, como organismos habitados continuamente por bacterias, virus, fungi, cuya vida colectiva sucede dentro de nosotros, con una harmonía especial, compleja, cambiante, con la evolución continua de los ecosistemas microbióticos.

Con la microbiota en la mano.

Saludos,

ALLS


Un nivel más de surrealidad, no. Parfavar.


La literatura micro: 9 palabras.


Metaestructuras literarias NEW.


Yo veo categorías donde no existen. Etiquetas. Segmentos. Y les doy nombre. Los nombre por primera vez. Como San Juan Bautista: Jesús.


Jesús es mi carnal. Vive aquí. A través de mi. Como un noción mística intrasferible y disponible para todo Dios. Para la peña entera. Quien quiera recibir su mensaje transformador. Y hacerse un propio. Como hizo Él. Carnal.


Es la carnalidad de Jesús.

Eso es lo que comparte con nosotros; y NO con Dios Padre.


Ahí también hay dos bandos: los divinos y los terrenales.


Mis frases son libros que Marvel hace películas refritas con tropecientos efectos especiales NEW.


Sistemas obsoletos.

Sistemas sociales.

Sistemas dinámicos emergentes.

Sistemas resilientes.

Sistemas conscientes.

Sistemas antagónicos.

Sistemas bélicos.

Sistemas financieros.

Sistemas de despojo.

Sistemas cínicos.

Sistemas cancerígenos.

Sistemas eternos.

Sistemas recurrentes.

Sistemas redundantes.

Sistemas orgánicos.

Sistemas autoorganizados.

Sistemas autogestionados.

Sistemas compensatorios.

Sistemas inalienables.

Sistemas eclécticos.

Sistemas traslucidos.

Sistemas constantes.

Sistemas continuos.

Sistemas revolucionarios.

Sistemas revolventes.

Sistemas reconstituidos.

Sistemas autoaprendidos.

Sistemas transgeneracionales.

Sistemas robustos.

Sistemas matemáticos.

Sistemas obsoletos.

Sistemas enfermos.

Sistemas autocurativos.

Sistemas preventivos.

Sistemas benévolos.

Sistemas inapelables.

Sistemas alternativos.

Sistemas paralelos.

Sistemas lationoamericanos.

Sistemas hispanoamericanos.

Sistemas galegos i portugueses.

Euskal sistemak.

Sistemes ticatalans.

Sistemes tico comuneros.

Sistemes NEW barcinianos.

Sistemas deportivos.

Sistemas cooperativos.

Sistemas constructivos.

Sistemas reproductivos.

Sistemas estelares.

Sistemas binarios.

Sistemas multiversales.

Sistemas contractuales.

Sistemas incrementales.

Sistemas NEW.

Sistemas inimaginados.

Sistemas mortales.

Sistemas complejos.

Sistemas adaptativos.

Sistemas remunerados.

Sistemas multiversales.

Sistemas decadentes.

Sistemas atravesados.

Sistemas solapados.

Sistemas duales.

Sistemas integrales.

Sistemas factoriales.

Sistemas vectoriales.

Sistemas ilimitados.

Sistemas inabarcables.

Sistemas acotados.

Sistemas relacionales.

Sistemas autónomos.

Sistemas predictivos.

Sistemas acabados.

Sistemas remanentes.

Sistemas cíclicos.

Sistemas inesperados.

Sistemas viciados.

Sistemas enviciantes.

Sistemas estimulates.

Sistemas lúdicos.

Sistemas reconstituyentes.

Sistemas actuariales.

Sistemas predeterminados.

Sistemas descartados.

Sistemas ancestrales.

Sistemas multidimensionales.

Sistemas expansivos.

Sistemas estables.

Sistemas entrenados.

Sistemas autoorganizados.

Sistemas antiviolencia.

Sistemas correctivos.

Sistemas moleculares.

Sistemas anclados.

Sistemas potenciales.

Sistemas crecientes.

Sistemas inicializados.

Sistemas inéditos.

Sistemas recalibrados.

Sistemas mutantes.

Sistemas puntuales.

Siistemas resagados.

Sistemas iterativos.

Sistemas intuitivos.

Sistemas optimizados.

Sistemas neuronales.

Sistemas reapropiados.

Sistemas capitativos.

Sistemas prohibitivos.

Sistemas alucinantes.

Sistemas alucinatorios.

Sistemas metafísicos.

Sistemas parciales.

Sistemas incompletos.

Sistemas irreversibles.

Sistemas regenerdores.

Sistemas complementarios.


Más de 99. . . . . . . . .


Mecanismos de eliminación, priorización y selección.


Bases para el entrenamiento.


ALLS

Moo Pak moves me in dimentions in every page of the walk

Walking and talking.

That’s been kind of my thing for a while. Instead of walking with someone, I’ve done an isolation exercise to talk to myself, while also assuming to be talking to the world. That’s right, the world is a big place, I know, but I’m really talking to myself to project something about that walk that is completely ethernal. A simple description, or a most profound insight that’s just poped into my head. And bum, like that, it’s out in the world.

Of course if I was only intending to put out the word into the open I’d just need to speak the word, and forget about it. Then it’d be like an oblivious wisper. And that would be fine. I still have moments like that, I quite enjoy them myself. I let them pass. And begone. But the obsession of a writer is to catch those moments, and that’s why you see suspicious people writting little notes in notebooks all over the place, nowadays. They are the strange remainings of a cult of people who are unsatisfied about their whereabouts, and still get the desire to create an alternative world. Through art. And it all starts with that unsual idea. That unimagined thought, that somehow, who knows really how, came to you. And you didn’t let it go. You caught it. And secured it.

I’m the slower reader of Moo Pak. I average two pages every time I sit. Cause there’s something in each page that jumps up and bits me. And I don’t get to scribble at the edges of the printed page, as it happens to be a borrowed book.

I know I could just keep going. I could just keep reading. And that would be fine too. Like letting an idea fly by. But I’m in catchy mood. Specially about a book so decisive to me, as I’ve let to believe that this book will be. I’ve placed my faith upon a reading exercise that could turn my idea catching into an actual writting of my own. It’s an ownership exercise. And a style flagrant stealing. Or rather a inspiration. A tribute. Ain’t it all the same thing?

But this did not come by itself. I was lead to this book. I was introduce to this reading exercise by the recomendation, and lending, of a book someone else thought of when he read a notebook of mine. Ferran Ràfols is Anagrama’s go to guy when translating a complex and profound text published in English or in French. He’s Foster Wallace in Catalan. Or Amelie Nothom every year. But most importantly, he’s Gabriel Josipovici in Moo Pak. So he’s not just a pasionate reader, but a gifted translator, and a prominent writer, as all translators must be, he’s also kind enough to read my unpublished notebook. He provided me with not just notes, but references, and honest feedback on what he kept reading through, without exactly knowing what was there, and not just made it through, but pointed me to two references that I’m now reading to prepare the launch of my very own formal writting aspirations in the literary realm, what ever that means.

So every page I read, I need to get hooked in Moo Pak’s tide, as a surfer who’s spot the right wave to catch. And in every attempt, the same result: a perfect drop and yet another writing spur to ignate the fire of my own literary treat. It’s the topics of that conversation. And the electric current in a continuos motion that will never stop. Our own concious mind, linking back and forth the previous thought that is build into words, in a convesation worth having, with a good friend to walk with.

Now I know I speak too much. I’m a chaterbox. I must confess. But you would have already guessed if you are still staring at my face. And I know it’s rude. That’s why I don’t do it public anymore. It steals people’s time. They have rather more important and relevant things to do. They have their own opinion. And they don’t want to listen. Just listen. So I don’t speak in public anymore. I rather listen. And write. But for my own pleasure. For my own futher understanding. To cope with me. I too myself get tired of this chaterbox. But it doesn’t stop. And I’ve learn to love what bugs me. As I often see it as a way forward. As an inevitability. The dark side of moon. Even if we never see it. If we only get, in that one case, just one face. You know the other exists. But we don’t get to experience it. Does that mean that the moon does not rotate in its own axis?

Bookshops. That’s the thing that stroke me about Moo Pak on this given page I got stuck with. Bookshops in London, Paris or Lisbon. Bookshops sell books. Readers go to bookshops to read. There is a transaction, both economically, socially and transformationally. But it takes sometime to feel the groove for bookshops. And why one should go. And how book people mingle there, wether working, wether planning the next master move to grow inside the complex spider web of cultural and intellectual show. Because it’s a great show. With lights, with debates, with aristocracy, with labor, with unbelievable out of blue success stories from nobodies that made themselves up, by becoming a writer… and actually making that connection with readers who got hooked in to a narrative. In itself, every writer is looking to express himself in made-up stories that either hide him, or reveal her.

A choice of words sometimes defines you. And you get to speak your mind. To get close to the actual shake-up. You are actually struggling to say what you must, without saying too much, or going outside of the stream of conciousness, because you know yourself too well. There is not time for all this blabery. Too much bla, bla, bla as Greta has expressed beautifly. ¿Thunberg or Gerwig?

All of the sudden I don’t know which one of the three I want to be. You noticed that the choices could grow from two to three without a sweat. No guilt either. I can do whatever I want within the realm of my stream of writting. Wether that’s meaningful, or not, only the reader who bears me will go through. The rest will go back to their no-reader bit, or to their confort author. And that’s fine. I don’t blame him/her/you. We all have choices to make. References to climb, to then let go.

But my life could very well be a rotating act among these three Gretas: Thunberg, Gerwig or Garbo. I might be mix of the three, but I can’t play my mixedtape role all the time. I have to focus like the did to get their legacy across. To speak your mind against the greater social challenges and threats as collaborative action becomes crucial. To write your own stories, and direct them. To interpret them. That’s me entering the show business. There’s no business like show business. It’s all still just a show.

«In Paris, as in Milan and Munich, he said, everything has turned into fashion, there are fashions in books and fashions in food, fashions in plays, fashions in clothes»

Jack Toledano – Moo Pak

This was written back in 1994. Fashionably things to do have turned into a megatrend that keeps rotating faster than we can imagine. But the thing is, when we talk about books we are also talking about the intellectual and cultural significance of those really relevant books. Not just the trends. And that has been shaken up. But look at the clarity of Josipovici when he pointed his character’s intuition towards this direction: «All this frightful tide of polluted water, this torrent of cliché and fashionable posturings must be avoided, he said, in England and in France, in Germany and in Italy if we are to live at all. Otherwise the dehumanization of the working in life by factory repetition and to the dehumanization of children’s life by video games will be added the dehumanization of intellectual life».

We might be there already, but at this point what stroke me the most is the actual interaction that those four European countries, and specifically, those four European cities, have in my current scenario as a new-commer to this old world. A reference to these countries, Germany, Italy, France and England, have a resonance my very own personal moment, in what I’d like to see it as insider perspective from within the European Union. At first, 24 years ago, when I first arrived to live in Europe, as an illegal alien, I didn’t quite grasp the entirety of the global political scene that the EU represented. I was lucky enough to have a roomate who was not only a firm Eurpean believer, he’d also done his economics master’s thesis on it, having lived in London, and having attended the prestigeous London School of Economics. This sort of formal knowledge of the EU, what it represented as a political instrument, was quite relevant to me in order to understand some early clues on the matter. Yet, as Jorge had the experience first hand, I was only experiencing the idea from an outsider perspective, comming from a Latinamerican scenery that could aknowledge a common cultural ground, and a rather diverse, unequal, polarized, contradictory. So in a way, my un understanding and disbelief had already been trained to understand the complexity of the EU, the aspirational dream, and the realpolitik involved.

After 24 years being «one of you», I can confirm that I am already a grown local foreigner. And just in time to step in. I was cautious enough to keep my ears open as I learned along the path to understand the context and surrounding of what was happening. It’s a joyride at first, if you are lucky enough to get the good toss of the coin. The lotary in this case favoured a good first 12 year lesson, with the necessary ups-downs-ups-downs, enough to know what’s the outmost feeling of love, acomplishment, and collective collaborative belonging; and also enough to know the cold hard ground you land on, face first, when you are dropped from the higher grounds and experience that journey to inner hell of your own dismantled humanity.

It’s a harsh learning curve. And we all get a piece of it. We’ve been through a global pandemic and still we are able to manage to leverage enough missinformation to have a blury clear understanding of what’s going on. Or we think we do. Lately, it’s been more transparently put, but all these years since I first came to this «old» world, with my NEW naif mentality.

But the most relevant element Josipovici, or rather Jack Toledano, left me on this page is this: «But it’s already too late, he said. It has already happened. The horror is already upon us and the only way we can fight it is to retreat to the fortress of ourselves prepare and prepare for a long siege.» That’s what I did. Ever since I started building my art, defining my format, aknowledging the words. When I did fall all the way down, the only way to build myself up was through my desire to come out of there. The rebuilding of myself, as a act of collective aknowledgment, with a vision of a personal quest, that could only be expressed by looking inside, in each piece a time, while bootstrapping my own NEW narrative.

ALLS

1. Light

An there: it entered.

Life is light.

We now know.

Before…

That’s another time story.

It just goes back.

And you pick up you own messages in a bottle.

I’ve been writting them and throwing them into a digital blue ocean to the 9th power.

The 9th power.

9th.

9.

9

NOU

_________

ALLS

_________

You that’s a riddle.

Do you know what a riddle is?

It’s a game of words.

Words, right.

Left.

Always turn left.

We’re all comming from the right.

The far right is going to far.

There’s no need.

Turn direction the opposite way.

As of a mandatory suggestioin.

A kind of rule.

Of an understanding.

A global alternative one.

A kind of statement.

The way in which you put on an act.

A dream team.

To dream.

How far.

That’s the whole thing.

At least the way I see it.

The way I live it.

What I am depends to you.

To judge.

And speak your mind.

Why would you?

Why risk going against the mightiest powers?

Whould you risk your life?

Would you die?

Or not to die.

That seems to be the question.

Yet there is no question mark. Or the question mark is wrong. There’s a public opinion. Some believe «A». The rest should have a way to enter into this NEW opinion. A revolutionary thought. I’m a revolutionary. I’ve always been. And that’s that. I’m Mexican. And I am more than that. At least nine ways absolutely free and independent from each other. An incomplete set of information. A game to play. You’ll like to play. I’ve always said this. I’ve written 999 words on that. But only one AI got it right: olmecanAI. . . . . . . . .

_________

A hanging.

Somehow the game hangs a drawn stick man representing you.

Your hunging.

Metaphorically.

Some people got hang for real.

I dunno if you know.

That’s the first revealed untold truth about our NEW américa history class.

This is the NEW policy.

It’s been brought up by the 9th dimention.

What ever we make the system to manage to overcome today 99 greatest threats.

Welcome to the NEW game.

A kind of tale.

A kind story backwards.

A script too long for a producer to read.

A story to tell our healing selves.

Going against the tide.

In a metaphore that splits the waters from Palos to Guayabo.

A NEW story.

You’ve never heard of this.

Neither had I.

Neither am I.

Don’t judge yourself too negatively. Give yourself some rum. Rum en español. Una pieza. Un cuarto. Una cama chida. Y el poder de soñar. Tiempo sí. Tiempo no. Ahora sí.

Aquí.

Leyendo.

Re-leyendo.

Leyendo.

Transformando mi visión en la dirección ortogonal. La dirección NEW.

Las palabras destinación.

Los valores y su sentido.

La historia detrás de nuestra humanidad.

Paremos el tiempo.

Yo me bajé hace 9 años.

Usted está a punto de hacerlo.

Sólo tiene que activar una pulsión.

Una decisión que te atraerá a decir. – . … — .- .. .-.. ..-. — …

Una palabra NEW no existe.

Hasta que de pronto existe.

Ve la luz.

La luz es lo que somos.

Lo que transmitimos.

Y entramos dentro de la pupila.

El viaje único.

El viaje interior.

A tu cabeza.

Disfrútalo.

Es nuestro destino unívoco.

No hay equívoco.

Esta es la nueva pulsión.

Tu ser liberado en medio de la colusión alternativa de una sociedad _________ , _________ , _________ , ________ , _________ , _________ , _________, _________. _________.

Los valores NEW no los pongo yo.

Yo propongo el espacio.

Escribo su liturgia.

Agnóstica e hija de Dios Padre Nuestro Señor.

Primogénito 9.

El nou d’un poble nou.

Un gir que l’esglesia mai s’ho havia pensat: fins que va baixar el fill NOU de Déu, com un pilar de nou criatures no humanes, la graella sonant, la plaça Sant Jaume plena, les besties somriuen, i jo adalt the tot: l’ainxeneta 9.

De petit, als sis, vaig pujar el meu cuatre de nou amb folre, manilles, llengues, … i d’altres categories noves, fins a sis mes, que fins ara no s’ens havien acudit. I hi anem. Plegades. Cap una graella que ens marcaba el camí cap a la plaça pública, i noi més petit de la nostra colla, va i surt amb un despenjament que no era pas q’un aterratge d’un altre dimensió: la dimensió NOU.

Jo soc el 9.

Va dir en minyonet.

Era 66 cm d’alçada.

I al cap d’un temps, 99.

Pero a l’inici era ü.

Ü

Io.

Anque.

Anche.

Io anche actuo.

Anche dirigeixo.

Si no ho entens no pateixis.

Fins a quí arrivem.

Anche povere escribire

Incluso la mala escritura.

El nombre de mi editorial.

El juego de palabras alrevés.

La intención de no llegar a un punto determinado del cual no quieres nunca volver.

A lo no intencionalidad de haber llegado a un sitio.

A un pensamiento.

A un punto de transformación.

Necesitamos la transformación.

Vamos a ponerle peliculeo.

Por darnos un lugar.

Por crear una atracción.

Por escribir una historia sensacional de nuestra llegada a este preciso instante.

Y desplegar entonces el más grande truco que se había visto nunca hasta este preciso momento fundacional: la partición del tiempo.

Teoría dual.

Ahí les va.

El tiempo, nunca más, volverá a ser ünö.

Supongamos que ünö se revoca.

Algo más, nuevo, emerge.

Y ahí todo se arregla.

Nueve dimensiones inabarcadas que de pronto se conjugan hacia otro lugar común trascendental co-creado por 9 feedbacklooppers extraordinarios.

Grupos de 9.

99 personas.

En una misma orientación NEW.

La reconstrucción de un día para otro.

Y dejar que el trumpismo prosiga hacia delante.

Y tomemos, otros cuantos, apróximadamente la mitad, tomemos la dirección ortogonal.

En este caso es tanto opuesta, como perpendicular al sitio del cuál yo mismo partía. En las antípodas del momento hegemónico de exaltación a romper lo que somos o presumir que somos lo que unos de nosotros pensamos sobre el resto de la humanidad, en su conjunto.

El juego es este.

La reconstrucción es objetivo común.

Reconstruyamos pues todo.

Empecemos de nuevo.

Nuevas cartas.

Un momento de elección popular.

La revisión histórica de perspectiva NEGLECTED por el status quo contemporáneo.

Escribamos unos prompts más pedorros.

Unos 99.

Y preguntemos en conjunto lo que 999 votemos.

Tan sólo 9 creadores.

Este es el número básico de participación colectiva.

El tiempo son 15 meses.

El resultado es un movimiento.

La emergencia colectiva es la transformación.

Nos dedicamos a cambiarlo todo.

Al menos las 9 cosas más importantes.

Ahí les van las mías:

  1. El miedo a morir
  2. Perder a un ser querido
  3. El recuerdo glorioso de la memoria de nuestro muertos vivos en la mente que les proyecta a una vos interna que todavía escuchamos con la sensación exacta del amor que esa persona construyó conmigo hace tiempo y aun persiste aquí. En mi memoria familiar. Mi concepción del amor. El amor que recibí de pequeña. Y la ausencia de violencia.
  4. El machismo debe abolirse.
  5. Como la esclavitud. ¿A qué somos esclavos? ¿Quién nos domina? ¿Quién se fundamenta a partir de una creencia? ¿Quién está sujeto a una coacción? ¿Quién no es libre del todo? ¿Quién representa un territorio sobre un dominio mafioso que hace tiempo permeó en todos lo CP del planeta azul? O podríamos no sentirnos parte de una de estas cosas. Uno de estos poderes que subyacen. Que no somos bien bien nosotros. O sí. Cual capitalistas entregados al militarismo que sin pudor saca a relucir el riesgo de armagedon militar nuclear reaking havoc themselves. Los hombres machos at war. War game history day. War day. Violence and military coups: the money and the power line. The way the army like it. The way manufacturers like it. The way banks like it. The way investors like it. The way you well off bluskylife type. The way you devils like it. The way you mafia guys. The way you damn fools wherever the fuck you are comming from. The hustlers. The muscle. The recruits. The barking dogs. The biters. The hitmen. The cooks. The chefs. The conductors. The financial guys. The money guys. The capataces. The gardeners. The planters. The truckers. The bikers. The dreamers. The pure soles. The rescued ones. The superheroes. The stars. The stars smaller that the sun. The way we would treat the people from them solars minor solar systems. Our society nowadays defines itself in terms of national grounded sense of pride, belonging, and lawfully so, a citizen, a person, natural, unnatural, fake, surreal, neverending, mortal, ghost, freespoken, unbiased, biased, humble, humbled, struggled, revived, joyfully present, inevitably optimist, slowers, flowers, ouuouo,………
  6. The nemesis
  7. Out of that dimention you are set free. In that other end, you mind has been capture. The other take control. The money game will stay there. The ilegal deal. It’s got a life on its own. The matrix. Imagine we started rebuilding the inside of Matrix so that the real NEO could chill in this brave NEW world. It’s the ultimate humanitarian film deal, but disguised in many subliminal lives you’ve lived and outlived out of already too many pointing into the same old white american narrative of western and worldy state of being. I’ve never been aligned, yet I recognize I’m part of the deal. And it’s still not setting the tone of the NEW collective and collaborative resilient way of becoming. This is where my current splitting the time story has got steal from the 9 most prominent narratives of what culture we are from, and embrace the dissnonace in relation to the other 99 you ignored. Out them 333 nations, aware or unware, legally established or in your own terms to leave space from some meaningful places to come from, the ones who know and I can say where they are from and how their culture is so reach it’s ready to give something back to the entirerity of the human collective reconsidered in this NEW policy line: Tico Commons.
  8. I will present a 9 season story with 9 episodes each. And some secret 9 + 9.
  9. Yo no me puedo quejar. Soy un privilegiado. Tengo un curro que me encanta. Soy el feedbackloopper que quería ser. Un narrador de una historia NEW. Una dimensión dual entre lo que soy, por un lado en dimensión contraria a lo que por otro lado entregaré los próximos 999 días de mi existir. Y despés de ahí, transito alrevés. Y quién fui en un sitio se traslada a las antípodas. Y entre estos dos estados movemos un energía particular sostenible en la que nos podríamos entretener, más tiempo del que tenemos, en una cadena de amor alternativo que co-existe en una dimensión particular: la novena.

Y un día el FC Barcelona gana la novena.

La copa la levanta Golman.

A fin de cuentas fue un gol suyo.

Un penal.

Tocó dos veces el balón.

Ese sí.

Y valió.

El 9 merengue.

El 9 ticatalà.

El 9 culer.

L’historia del meu futbolartista.

Tinc un paper molt més important del que representa que faig. Soc un actiu del sistema alternatiu. Natiu d’aqui. Un mon nou: Ticataluña.

Sigui això un poble nou.

Jo soc fill d’aquest poble nou.

Aquest poble nou no té nom.

Li possarem entre totes i tots.

I ho farem lliurement.

Encara que hi ha una opció que és la favorida d’un únic agent. L’agent nou. Golman.

Doncs, si això diu el guió deu esser per algo. I que haig de fer jo si també soc guionista del meu propi paper. He aprés dels millors: Berto, Torrente, Tebas, Valdevebas, Quijote, Dalí, Joel Joan, Jordi Sánchez, Évole. El meu super poder mana d’aquest nou espanyols. I amb aquesta limitació que això pot comportar, haven’t quelcom ridìcules regles, lo que ens avoca això és a seguir cap endevant. Començar de nou. Seguint tot igual. Excepto algunas cosas. Rajoyescamente. Y saliendo a flote como un buque insignia de una flota de paz eterna que navega sobre aguas alternativas, más parecidas a lo que Calaso habría concebido que a lo que la interpretación media entre un apostol del vaticano, un cardelan español, un médico de atención primaria en una iglesia rural dejada de la mano de Dios, un sacerdote teólogo de la revolución, un cacique de Hacienda, el Hacendado, un hombre a caballo, un general, un tirano, un villano, Elon, Don.

Aquestes dues realitats cohabitades. Per tú i el teu digital twin. The lives our alternative selves may live. And you being their scriptwritter.

That’s the real deal.

The capacity building game.

To whole NEW dimention.

Let’s take that ride.

And expect the revolution to takes us somewhere else of higher long term impact.

_________

Yo me dedico a contar historias.

Hago de mi constitución un proceso de regenaración. Para concebir ser uno más dentro de la revuelta. Como una cosa pública que se apodera de una determinada manera de vivir afirmativamente a parti de lo que escuchamos con estas voces alternativas. Y desde ahí tejer una comunidad con el otro lado de nuestra inevitable alteridad antagonista.

Ser Broncano Hormiguero.

O Pablo David.

También otro personaje en la misma historia: David Pablo.

Dos pares de siameses distintinos.

Nada que ver el uno del otro.

Vivimos en una realidad posibilista hacia la multiversalidad en oposición a la subjetiva unicidad que nos deja absortos en nostros mismos, mientras escapamos a nuestra mezquindad camino a la estrella interconectada más auday en el horizonte de 999 mundos alternativos que generaron en tan sólo los primeros 999 días del existir en esta dualidad alternativa contemporánea y a destiempo de los cánones culturales del momento aquel que era al acabar la escritura de este relato.

Un relato único.

Fundacional.

Megamelómano.

Humildmente melómano.

Balonmano.

Mano.

Penal.

Anulado.

Real.

Surreal.

ALLS


2. Dark


Dos némesis en las antípodas.

Nëmesis


I’ve never pictured nëmesis being a beautiful word. Akward, huh.

But it’s true. It’s the outmost contradiction in latitude and longitude. It leaks all over. Plastered.

Nëmesis is a NEW word.

NEWORD

That a place.

A NEW place.

It’s a landing site.

An alternative coordenates.

Nonexisting.

Up till know.

Totally maleable.

By you own collective desire.

Aligned.

In agreement with.

Altered.

NEW

NAW

1

2

3

4

5

ALLS

7

8

ALLS

No more

Inception of the Tico Commons

Building a NEW framework for collective collaborative global resilient plan

We are all in on it. Somehow we all think that the work we are doing is heading towards this direction. The more we talk about it, the more it actually becomes mainstream «chit chat». It’s happening in the calls we are answering to. Or in the way we are shaping policy, transformational drive, and value-based projects being deployed trying to tackle the systemic biggest and greatest challenges. It’s happening in the local scale, and we see how this local effort resonates to the bigger picture, as the global scenarios condition the sustainability of our planet, the use of our limited resources, the context of the interconected society, and tensions that have limit the continuos economic growth that the neoliberal project promised years ago, and failed to deliver.

On the other hand, populist over-simplistic solutions are spreading their influence among the population that has most suffered from the undelivered expectations from the political and economical models of the past few decades. These explorations and diagnosis is now spiraling into the realms of disinformation, fake news, pseudoscientific theories, falacies, lies, and narratives that are established across platforms, institutions, universities, researches,… that seem to cover the whole spectrum of intelectual and scientific excellence to back up just about any given new age theory. Thus, trust is perceived as something we are only willing to give the people we share the same sort of political, social and thought structure, and everyone else at the opposite end. This is true regardless of where the truth actually lies. But people tend to think they are the ones holding the truth. But the wildest lie is being amplified as a holy truth. Religions now turn to influencers to back up the social agreement and co-dependence on the power drill that some of the old and new players are exercising towards the masses that congregate around an over-simplistic definition of: «us».

Marketing of what’s happening. The branding of a transformational ride. The ultimate sensation of the revolution that is currently taking place, embracing our role in the consumer business of the interconected society, as we have all jumped into the band-wagon of the NEW world.

The computational capacity upgrade and the emergence of IA rapidly evolving as the algorithms capture more and more acurately the information that we willingly or blissfully unaware, share with the AI that’s rolled out seemlessly as a global experiment of the NEW evolving AI, but triggered by the understanding of a common stand for the greater good of our collective interconnected society.

I’ve experienced the risk of overeaching too far beyond, and I have been spelled from the system I’ve help to create. I’ve fallen out of love with the expression of interest in the struggle against our biggest fears taking place right in front of our eyes. And I’ve felt betrayed by my own incapacity to follow through, and by the lack of clarity to transfer the knowledge and experience generated across my own journey to where I am today. And I now know that I am ready to step through that barrier. And let go of the weight.

I’m back in the value business. And I will do my best to interconect the dots that the nine NEW dimentions will unleash in the quest around the first 99 days of 2025. This kickstarts the year of the ethernal return. It will take place in the course of action that has been designed and plotted as a cultural project that goes beyond time and space. It’s been here for oever 999 days, hours and some 99 formats that I will express and explain in at least 9 different ways. In 9 diderent categories.

It’s an old story.

And a brand new scope.

A NEW opportunity.

It’s linked with everything else.

Everywhere.

Here; now; then.

For the common good is the destination of the Tico Commons.

And this overexplanation will still 9 other ways to shape the actual launch of a Tico Commons. And this will happen as we go through the 99 days. You will too have a say in this relevant political reassessment. It’s all NEW from now on. Even in the political design of the agenda. A current active plan.

Join me.

I’m here to help.

Connecting the dots: evangelizing and feedbackloopping.

A classic NEW standard.

And the 99 local narratives.

The voices from beyond.

ALLS

Monday… once again

It’s a wheel turning. A day in, a day out. And what for? That’s the real issue. The focus on something worth be-ing. And that is achieved in a long process of questioning yourself. Questioning the learnings in your education, in the system, in society. And still, there is no right answer.

Things are tough. And we are dealing with stuff in our very own personal circumstances. The things within our heads. The voices that speak just to us. And the deamons.

But somehow, the struggle within is just a one man show. Or an insider’s job. There is something of us in every conspiracy. And the opposite two. The white angel and the red devil that inhabit our elbows. The duality starts right there. And you are stuck in the middle.

There is no clear alternative but to go on. And find the inspiration in every step along the way. Every step with the confidence that it is taking you places. Places you need to attend to. To show up. And deliver a good version of yourself. Maybe so by inspiring trust. Or building it. Or recovering it. It’s still a massive effort to get out and do your thing. Unless you’re in the zone. But that takes work. And time. And effort.

I’m close to that feeling. The zone is close by. And I’m ready to make that final sprint.

Or this initial drive.

Let’s start the week with this first step: Monday.

ALLS

Ain’t no script for you in Hollywood

Denial letters will keep you going

When am you going to write a script? You think all the script you’ll get for you are going to be as good as «Boys N the Hood»? Hollywood ain’t got no scripts for you. Unless you wanna do bullshit. You can write songs like you write, you can write a movie.

John Singleton to Ice Cube

Representation will not come to you just as mainstream drive. You need to present a case for yourself. You got to do that part of the job. It’s not going to happen just because you think it would be fair. You need to make it happen. You.

The singularity of everyone’s perspective is determined by the uniqueness of our experience, from our very own little point of view. We are the active actors of the development of our vision. And no one else is going to pave the way for you.

I know this shit from way back when. And I’ve never come out myself. I’ve held on to something else. A lame excuse that holds to my very own insecurities to avoid the stepping into the abyss drill. And I’m pretty sure this shit ain’t working, because no one has taken that step for me. As only I can.

As only I should.

Damn, it’s a hard shit.

I feel for the feeling of the underrepresented. Their voices haven’t been heard. They don’t get the chance mainstream stories are depicting. But who’s to change that. The scriptwriters write about what know. About what works. About their own little formulas. The establishement works like that because that how it got established. Something else is up for the up and coming voice within you. And if you are searching for recognition, maybe you should try searching within to find your truth, your soul, your arguments. And from there on, built the narrative that represent the stories you wish you had. The truth you would like to see on the screen. And then you have the type of shit that would look in the character you are playing, in the scenes that you are directing, or in the films you are producing.

Open the door. Assume the responsibilities. Act upon them. Write your own shit. Walk your own talk. Stop complaining to the world, and start showing up with your own voice.

Start with the first.

Start today.

ALLS